


The Quality of Quidditch Supplies

by WolfRune20855



Series: The Basics of Broom Magic [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, It's September, Quidditch, RBC Masquerade 2021, because they're idiots, broom magic because why not, but they don't know that they're in love, quidditch as a love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:43:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28592709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfRune20855/pseuds/WolfRune20855
Summary: Marcus Flint has friends. You just don't know them.
Relationships: Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Series: The Basics of Broom Magic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179386
Comments: 12
Kudos: 90
Collections: Rigel Black Chronicles Masquerade 2021





	The Quality of Quidditch Supplies

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if Katie's ever mentioned in RBC. It's entirely possible that she's a pureblood in canon, but most of the time in fanfics she's written as a halfblood, so that's what I'm going with. If she is mentioned, this is an AU, 'kay?

Marcus Flint knew that he was an asshole. He’d never tried to be anything else. No one had ever expected him to be anything else given what his father was like. Really, it was surprising he hadn’t turned out to be more of an asshole. Everyone at Hogwarts had known him as Marcus Flint, a man with a personality as ugly as his face. Marcus didn’t mind. If people assumed that he was a jerk without any true friends, then they wouldn’t go looking to exploit them as weaknesses. 

Marcus could count the number of people he cared about on one hand and still have fingers left over. His mother was at the top of that list, but he didn’t see her a lot these days. He was being careful. If his father discovered what he’d done to get her out, he’d kill him. Marcus was sure of this. Archie Black had probably been on the list once, but years of blackmail had surely removed him. Marcus didn’t care about it too much. Archie’s deception was what helped save his mother in the end. He was thankful for that ruined friendship. Rigel was a good lad, whoever he really was. He and Black kept their word, so Marcus would keep his.

“Merlin’s beard, you’d think those bloody entitled purebloods would take better care of their brooms,” the other member of Marcus’s list groaned, studying the broom on the table before her––a Nimbus 2001 that had barely survived some horrific accident.

They were in the backroom of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Boxes filled with brooms, quaffles, and other equipment surrounded them, blocking what little light would have filtered through the window from doing so. Marcus sat on the floor eating crisps, watching the lanky, blonde girl lean over the repair table in the center of the room. Supplies were spread out around her, waiting to be used to fix the Nimbus 2001 on the table. Her journal sat on the corner, closed to the world. The girl moved with confidence as she inspected the tangled tail twigs. Katie Bell knew what she was doing. 

“They’re called entitled for a reason.” Marcus tossed a crisp into his mouth. 

Katie rolled her eyes. “You treat your broom with proper respect. More so. It might as well be your girlfriend.”

“I’m not entitled,” Marcus said. 

“Sure, you aren’t.” Sarcasm was heavy in Katie’s voice as she pulled out her wand and cast an inspection spell on the broom. 

Compared to Katie, Marcus supposed he was entitled. He was a pureblood heir. She was the halfblood daughter of the owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies. His position certainly had more advantages than hers did. He got to go to Hogwarts and play quidditch, while she was homeschooled and could only participate in pick-up games with the Diagon and Craftsman alley kids. She was a better chaser than anyone the Slytherin team had seen, but she’d never get the chance to prove herself. 

The inspection spell turned a purple color and Katie started cursing. “What kind of idiot disenchants a broom?” Katie peered at the order, frowning as she read the answer to her question. “Caelum Lestrange, apparently.” She glanced at Marcus. “He’s one of yours, right? You ever met him?”

“A handful of times.” 

“Does he seem like an idiot who doesn’t know the first thing about flying?”

Marcus shrugged. “He’s a Lestrange. They’re not exactly known for being stable.”

Katie huffed. “Well, he somehow managed to disenchant his broom so that it can’t actually fly. Neutralized it with a potion or something. I can’t tell. Dad’s gonna have to take a look at it. He won’t be happy about being pulled away from his designs.”

At the mention of designs, Marcus perked up, “What’s the latest from Franklin Bell look like?”

“Like I’m gonna tell you,” Katie scoffed. “You’ll stop visiting if I give you a sneak peek.”

“That’s not true,” Marcus insisted. It wasn’t. Not anymore.

Marcus had first befriended Katie because of her access to the latest broom models. Her family were as big of quidditch enthusiasts as Katie was. Her mother was the proprietor of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Her older brothers, Gilbert and Elliot, were the scariest beater team Marcus had ever witnessed in action—forget about the mischievous Weasley twins, the Bell brothers were ruthless. They were picked up by the Wasps two years back despite never playing at a school—that’s how good they were. Her father had played quidditch for the Cannons back when muggleborns were still allowed to. Now, he designed the best brooms in England. 

Five years earlier, Marcus had decided that the best way to get advanced knowledge on the brooms about to hit the shelves was to befriend the overly-friendly daughter of the premier designer in England. Katie Bell had started out as a means to an end, but, somewhere along the way, she’d turned into a friend. These days, if Marcus wasn’t working or keeping up pretenses by going out for drinks with Farristair or Selwyn, he could be found in the back of Quality Quidditch Supplies with Katie. Not that anyone ever looked for him––thankfully. 

Katie Bell was the closest thing to a best friend that Marcus Flint had. He didn’t want to lose that friendship. He didn’t want to lose _her_. 

“What about you?” Marcus asked. 

“What about me?” Katie was barely paying attention to him as she stitched the broom back together, weaving charms into the splinters she repaired. 

As Katie leaned over Lestrange’s broom, Marcus stood and joined her at the table. Peering over her shoulder, he watched the reparation process. It was always fascinating to watch Katie at work. “Am I going to get a sneak peek of whatever you’re working on?”

Katie’s blue eyes snapped up to meet Marcus’s. They were wide with surprise. “I’m not working on anything.”

“You honestly expect me to believe that the notebook you carry around is a diary?”

“Ye _-es_.”

“So you won’t mind if I take a look.” Marcus grabbed Katie’s leather-bound journal from the corner of the table. He began to flip through it, catching carefully drawn broom diagrams, runic equations, and spells that Marcus was sure Katie had made up before it was snatched from his hands. 

Katie glared at him as she held the book close to her chest. 

Marcus felt a tiny flare of guilt in his chest but pushed it down. He wouldn’t feel guilty about being interested in Katie’s work. Someone had to push her to share her experimentations. She wouldn’t do it on her own. “That’s a real interesting diary you’ve got, Kates. You know, most girls fancy blokes, not brooms.”

“It’s personal,” Katie said. “Therefore, it’s a diary. I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand.”

Marcus brushed aside what he was sure was supposed to be an insult. “Were those lightning-proofing spells?” 

“I… They’ve never been tested. Not really.”

“But you’ve crafted a broom with them before, right?”

Katie sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” 

Marcus grinned lopsidedly, his unruly teeth on full display. “Nope.” 

Resignation settled into Katie’s features. Completely ignoring Lestange’s broom, she squatted down and pulled a roll of burlap from underneath the table. She unfurled it. A broom rolled out. Marcus picked it up. It was long and sleek, just barely within maximum league length. Marcus wasn’t sure what the brush was made from. It was yellow in color, strong and durable. Carved into the end was the word, _Bell_. It was beautiful. 

“You made this?” Marcus asked in amazement. 

“I’ve grown up around brooms my entire life, Marcus. It’s understandable that I picked up a thing or two.” Katie shrugged. “It’s made for durability. The handle and seat are made from Australian buloke—a pain in the arse to shape, by the way. The brush is baleen.”

“As in-”

“The stuff that comes from whales.” Katie nodded. “I know it’s an unusual choice, but it’s more durable than straw or twigs. Plus it’s waterproof, so the characteristics expanded to the rest of the broom easily. It’s got the standard spells woven into it, plus a few of my own.” Katie pointed to the two silver bands holding the brush in place. “That’s stainless steel––a muggle invention that never rusts. I carved runes into the bands to increase speed, balance, and braking.”

Marcus admired her handiwork. It was amazingly detailed. She must have spent hundreds of hours on it. “Have you flown on it?” Katie nodded. “How’s she fly?”

“Smooth. Natural.” Katie smiled as she recalled a memory of flying, her eyes lighting up like the sky. Marcus ignored the part of his brain that noticed how pretty she looked. Those weren’t good thoughts to be having about his barely sixteen-year-old best friend. “You wanna try?”

Marcus nodded. 

Five minutes later, Marcus apparated them to the Falmouth Falcolns’s stadium. It was closed for the day, but he’d been given the keys when he got his job as a recruiter. It was standard to give potential recruits a tour of the stadium. The keys came in handy whenever he wanted to blow off some steam, which he did. Frequently. 

Marcus watched Katie survey the massive pitch with wide eyes. He felt a small tug in his chest. He ignored it. “Looks different from this angle, doesn’t it?”

Katie nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve never been inside a professional pitch before. Gil and El have offered to sneak me into the Wasp’s stadium, but I’ve never taken them up on it. Not when…” 

_Not when they’re positions are so precarious,_ Marcus finished mentally. Damn, he really was privileged if he didn’t even think about the consequences of using a professional pitch for personal use. Hell, the owner had practically encouraged him to use the access to impress his dates. Not that this was a date. No. Not with Katie. _Never_ with Katie. 

“But you took me up on the offer.” Marcus smirked. 

Katie’s eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I never claimed that it did.” 

Gripping her broom, Katie mounted before turning to Marcus. “You coming?”

Marcus arched an eyebrow. “You want us to fly together?” 

“I’m not bloody well letting you fly my prized possession on your own, am I?” Katie leveled Marcus with an I’m-not-an-idiot glare. “Get on before I change my mind, Marcus.” He joined Katie, sliding onto the broom behind her without a complaint. “Hold on.”

Marcus’s fingers tightened around Katie’s waist as she kicked off. Suddenly, they were in the air. Wind whipped around them, blowing Katie’s blonde hair in every direction as she zoomed around the pitch. It wasn’t the fastest broom that Marcus had ever flown—it wouldn’t do for a seeker. It was a beater’s or a keeper’s broom, designed to withstand strong gusts and hurtling balls. Absentmindedly, Marcus wondered if Katie had designed it with her brothers in mind. 

He didn’t think about how natural it felt to be flying with Katie. He’d never shared a broom with anyone before. Only her. Katie pulled the broom to a stop, demonstrating the impressive braking mechanism. A keeper’s broom, after all. 

“What do you think?” she asked. 

“It’s good,” Marcus answers honestly. 

Katie’s ears turned pink. Her cheeks flushed. “Coming from you, that’s high praise.” 

“You should patent it.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Marcus sighed. This wasn’t a new argument. He knew he’d get nowhere with Katie today. Instead of pushing forward, he said, “Let’s fly.” Katie was happy to oblige. 

Flying around the pitch with Katie, Marcus felt a weight lift from his shoulders. A feeling of peace settled over him. He closed his eyes, allowed the feeling of the wind against his face and the smell of Katie’s shampoo to fill his senses. He never wanted to leave. 


End file.
